third job?

and...i've got a job interview at The Limited on Friday.  They must really need people, i hadn't even left the mall before they called me to set it up.

i can't believe that i'm trying to get a third job.  in retail, of all places.  let this be a lesson to you kids - credit cards and student loans are EVIL.  Avoid them at all costs.

in happier news - i've hit my lowest weight in awhile.  this is definitely good news.

sweet dreams

i had a dream last night that i was in my therapist's office.  in my dream his office was in his house, but in real life it's in a clinic.  the office didn't look anything like his real office, but it felt like the real thing in my dream.

anyway, i dreamed that i had a complete breakdown, the kind that i'm afraid i'm capable of.  i've cried in his office before, but it's always been my eyes leaking tears, me fighting them back the whole time.  i have this thing where i refuse to accept a kleenex from him.  every time my eyes well up, he takes the kleenex box and puts it right in front of me, but i never ever take one.  he says it's because i won't allow him to comfort me.  i think it's because i don't want to need to, and also because i'm afraid if i take one my subconscious will think it's got free rein to just collapse and i'll lose all control.

anyway, back to the dream.  i just...let go.  cried so hard i thought my heart was going to explode.  i shook from the physical effort and curled myself up into the tightest little ball possible.  he came over to me (for some reason i was sitting far away from him) and tried to reach for me.  i fought him back, pushed him away, but he broke through.  he enveloped me in his arms and i clung to his sweater, soaking it with my tears.  he took my face in his hands, and kissed me tenderly.

i never thought i was attracted to him - he is attractive in a distinguished way, with beautiful eyes.  but i tend to not be attracted to someone if i know there's no chance in hell that it would happen.  he is enormously focused on boundaries - i think he shook my hand when we met and that was it.  i also think he might be gay.  but now when i think of my dream i get quite a thrill in my ladyparts.  but then again, i'm quite sexually frustrated at the moment (but that's another post).

maybe that's why i don't take a kleenex from him.  i don't want a flimsy piece of paper.  i want my dream.

no fear

you know, sometimes it frightens me how easy this is.  how i can go a full day without food.  how i can go a week on apples and sugar free red bull.  how, if there were no other people in my life, i would never eat out.  it feels natural, smooth, like it's the way its always been and the way it always will be.  i've been doing this for almost two decades and it still hits me sometimes.  i really wonder if this is the way i was meant to be.  i've had a lot of shit in my life and it's so easy to blame my ED on that, but even if i didn't i think i would still be this way.  funny.

i'm not one of those people that whines about how miserable they are and the hell they're in and how they would give anything to recover.  between you and me, that's bullshit.  i know, because i know the difference between wanting to recover and wanting to stay right where you are.  it takes real self acceptance to say, i like this, i like the way i am, i know it's not normal and i know it's not healthy and i'm ok with that.  people who want to recover, who really really really want to recover, do.  they bust their ass and do whatever it takes to get well, they don't play games/hide food/tell lies/purge secretly/fast for days yet say they want to recover.  they tell everyone so they can be help accountable.  they sit out in the main room after eating so they can be watched.  they do as they're told.

i believe that people who remain sick with an ED do so because some part of them, unconsciously perhaps, likes it.  A person does not continue a negative behavoir unless they get some sort of benefit out of it, and that benefit outweights the negative consequences.

i'm an alcoholic.  my drinking brought plenty of negative consequences: humiliation, no money, threat of legal action, possibility of hurting someone, and threat to my health.  but it also relaxed me, let me escape, loosened me up for social events and made me feel good, at least for a little while.  for a real long time, the positive benefits outweighed the negative consequences for me, even though an outsider would probably disagree.  i said over and over again how bad my drinking was and how it was ruining my life, and i kept right on drinking.  it was only when the scale switched to the negative, when my life was really crumbling around me, that i reevaluated my position.  i decided that the brief escapes were not worth it, and i got my ass to AA.

it's about choice and being honest with yourself.  with respect to my ED, i don't want to be different.  i'm ok with this.  maybe that's fucked up, but it's ok with me.  the benefits outweigh the negatives.

*phew*

after two days of no food, i'm back to my pre-wedding weekend weight.  i wish that i would remember that and not have a panic attack every time i have to eat a little more than normal.  it comes right off again, it's just water weight, no big deal, blah, blah blaaaaaaaah.  yep.  i know it, after years and years i know it, but the panic is still the same.  anyway, back to the routine.  the MIL may be coming, but i (the scale) will be going (down).  yeppers.

i got into an, ahem, argument with my therapist today.  i was sick, so i'm already irritated, and when i'm irritated it feels like the whole world is against me.  my therapist gave me a worksheet last week to help me connect my emotions to my actions and i wasn't sure about how to do part of it.  so, i asked him about it and he said "i don't want to tell you how you should do it."  i said "well, this is something that i'm supposed to do to help me" and he said "well no, you're not supposed to do anything." so that was frustration number one.  i was struggling with some kind of emotion, but i couldn't figure out what it was.  instead of talking to me about it, he gave me a sheet of paper with a list of emotions on it and said for me to find one that worked for me.  for some reason, that pissed me off as well.  like, i'm to order an emotion off the menu while you sit there??  so that was strike two.

so, i was sitting there, not saying anything because i was pissed.  after a few minutes he started writing notes.  i asked him what he was writing and he wouldn't tell me because "it wouldn't be helpful."  strike three.  i went off on him, saying that he was being arrogant and obnoxious.  he said that he felt that i must be very frustrated, that he could feel my hurt.  i said "oh i'm sure, you understand how i feel but yet you don't feel compelled to ease my hurt."  he said "you don't know what i do or do not feel compelled to do, you can't know" with a real edge to his voice.

i have been seeing this guy for over a year and let me tell you, he is unflappable...his demeanor is as still as a mountain lake.  the fact that i got a rise out of him means i must have really pissed him off...so i feel guilty and horrible and now i wonder if he hates me and how can i go back now?  this is such bullshit.

i went home early today because i'm still not feeling well...but there's no way i can miss work the rest of the week, so i'm just going to have to suffer through it.

dancing with the rock stars?

i am, quite embarrasingly, addicted to the show Dancing with the Stars - at the very least it gives me an opportunity to feel horrible about my body because of all those gorgeous lithe dancers.  oh wait, every person in the world gives me that opportunity...but i digress.  they are doing a "rock week" and i think it should be renamed "we are scraping the bottom of the barrel" week.  What is this, American Idol, where we have to have a weekly theme?  Get back to the dancing, people.

i haven't eaten anything today.  it was quite easy, actually.  funny how even that makes me nervous - like, i must have eaten way too much over the weekend if i wasn't starving today.  my MIL arrives Thursday and she will start cooking - schnitzel and latkes, for sure.  if i don't eat, i'm rude and hurt her feelings.  damn.  i may have to spend even more time at work and say i ate there, just to get a break.  maybe i can bring her food to work "for lunch" - which means "for the trash."

i'm having dinner with my sponsor tomorrow.  i'm supposed to pick something up and bring it to her house.  can i just bring something for her?  why do i always end up in this fucking situation!!

the world is conspiring to make me FAT.  fuck that.

ughhhhh

i've come down with a shitty cold.  my H had it last week and i knew it was only a matter of time before i got it too.  i woke up on friday with a sore throat and i was like....fuuuuuuck.  so the whole wedding weekend was spent in a haze of sickness and Sudafed.  Ick.  i did my best to act normal, i didn't want the bride to know or feel bad that i wasn't feeling well...i think she caught on at brunch this morning but it's hard to act well when you've got kleenex shoved up your nose.

but at least all that is over.  i really didn't want to eat because i wasn't feeling well, but put stuff on my plate to play the role of health and picked at it.  i'm still afraid to get on the scale, though.  ick.  i hate food.  i hate weight.  i hate everything.

my mother in law is coming to visit thursday and is staying three weeks.  kill me now.  we have such a small apartment that having a guest makes it very cramped.  she's a nice lady but doesn't speak much english and it is always awkward to try and talk with her.  plus she follows my h around and waits on him hand and foot and it drives me bananas...just contributes to him thinking that i should do that as well (heeeelll no!)  plus my h is making noise about bringing her here to live permanently.  SHIT NO.  i can't.  even if she doesn't live with us, i can't have her as a permanent fixture in my life.  i don't want a third person in my marriage - it's hard enough as it is.  if my h pushes this, it could be a real problem.

i've decided to fast tomorrow - i'm going to take advantage of being sick with no appetite.

wedding weekend

i am staring down my nose at the upcoming weekend and i am filled with dread.

my friend is getting married and i'm the person of honor (i refuse to say the word "matron").  rehearsal and rehearsal dinner tomorrow night, wedding and reception saturday, brunch on sunday.  kill me now.  gaining five pounds is unavoidable.  fuck.  plus all the stress and running around and trying to keep her together (she's a bit of a basket case).  i've only known this girl about a year so i'm not sure what to say during my toast.  my dress makes me look like a fat lump and i can't drink at the reception.

ick.  i just want to crawl under the covers.

on thursday my mother in law arrives for her visit.  that's a whole 'nother rant.